


Holding the infinite

by WhitethornWolf



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 09:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19059526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhitethornWolf/pseuds/WhitethornWolf
Summary: Asra blushes, if possible, even deeper. “Ah--I--”“What? Was I being too subtle?”“Daya,” he says, lips twitching. “You’re many things -- many wonderful things -- but you are not and never have been subtle.”~First time in the Magician's realm. NSFW with lots of feelings (aka my favourite).





	Holding the infinite

**Author's Note:**

> Has everyone and their cat done this kind of fic? Probably, but who cares.  
> Apprentice is genderfluid Daya.  
> Follow me @lesbianarcana on tumblr for the good stuff.

It’s always been  _ hard _ to be left waiting for Asra.

Never more in this moment, though, and never when there is so much at stake. Never has she been so helpless -- well, actually, that isn’t true. It’s only been a few years since she was barely a person at all.

Daya paces up and down the beach, pink sand squelching between her toes. The Magician’s realm is beautiful, and wonderful, but worrying about Asra taints her enjoyment of a new place to explore.

She can feel the familiar frustration welling in her. Trying to meditate doesn’t help -- an old suggestion of Asra’s, from the days when she needed him to help her with everything, and she would shake with anger and humiliation at her ineptitude.

He would always talk her through the frustration, laughing softly when she scowled.

“Don’t worry about it,” he would say. “I’m not going anywhere, and you’ll get it. I know you will.”

She could never stay angry, not when he smiled at her like that. It pulled at some deep emotion in her heart, though she couldn’t have known then what it really meant.

A flash of white catches her attention at the crest of an iridescent wave. Daya squints, shielding her eyes against the starlight overhead. Then another wave breaks and the white turns into strands of pearlescent hair, and her heart leaps into her throat.

She crashes into the surf, fighting against the current with her dress dragging behind her. Asra walks out of the water, beaming from ear to ear; he’s barely touched the sand when she throws herself into his arms. The water swirls around them, dragging their gowns with the current, but Asra’s arms only lock around her tighter. He buries his face in her shoulder, kissing her collarbone, then makes his way up to her nose and cheeks. Daya turns her head and catches his mouth, and his laugh melts into a soft moan.

“You look positively radiant,” Asra says breathlessly, when they break apart.

Daya laughs. She  _ feels  _ radiant, practically vibrating with joy and excitement. “Really?”

“A powerful, resourceful magician at large in the realms of magic? I can’t imagine a more wondrous sight. This place suits you.”

“You’re too sweet,” she laughs. She grabs Asra’s hands and pulls him out of the water. “Come here. Lie down with me.”

They tumble onto the pink sand together. Daya stretches out luxuriously and tugs him a little closer, legs straining against the wet, clinging fabric of her gown.

“I thought of all the things I wanted to say when I got here,” Asra says softly. His eyes drink her in, and he reaches for her hand. “But now, looking at you lying on this beach…”

He turns her hand over and kisses the inside of her wrist, and the brush of his lips on her pulse point sends little flutters down her thighs. Daya wraps her arms around him and tugs him down insistently.

“No talking,” she breathes against his lips.

The kiss is gentle at first, but she is not in the mood for  _ slow  _ and  _ inhibited _ . Not now, not after she’s lost her body to Lucio. Not while the future is so uncertain.

Asra responds enthusiastically when she deepens the kiss, pulling her closer until he’s half covering her. His leg presses between hers and up,  _ deliciously _ , and she murmurs encouragements as her spine arches towards him. 

Then he pulls back, cheeks red and pupils dilated. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Daya,” he manages. “May I show you something?”

She bites her lip and wriggles a little closer, tilting her head in invitation. She’s already fighting the urge to press her legs together; to press her body up and into him.

The hand resting on her hip slides up, smoothing gently across her stomach, and rests in between her breasts. His chest rises and falls against hers, their hearts beating in sync...and with that contact comes an echo, ebbing and flowing like the tide. Joy, excitement, a little apprehension--and a sheer ache of  _ want _ that makes the muscles in Daya’s core clench. 

Her heartbeat quickens, a blush spreading across her cheeks. All at once the atmosphere seems to change; charged with a tension entirely different from their usual passion play. Something deeper;  _ needier _ . Asra can feel it too, judging by the hitch in his breath.

“Don’t stop.” 

The plea is breathless; tentative. For all her confidence and familiarity with him, the words to express what she wants won’t form beyond that.

Asra’s throat bobs as he swallows, his hand still pressed to her heart.

“Asra,” Daya says, and finds her courage. She takes his hand and guides it to her breast. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh--”

His eyes widen; fingers twitch. There’s a split second where she thinks he’s going to refuse, to pull back, to give her a reason why they can’t.  _ We’re in a magical realm, you’ve lost your body, we don’t have time… _

But instead he looks down at her, eyes lidding, and there’s an unmistakeable look of hunger in his eyes.

“You don’t want to?” Daya asks, head tilting.

“I do,” he says, and swallows again. “I do want to. But you should know this isn’t the first time we’ve done this.”

“Did we do it in the Magician’s realm last time, too?”

Asra bursts into giggles as she tries and fails to look innocent.

“Ah-hah! No--no, that’s not--”

“Not what?” Daya says, laughing. She lifts herself and rolls him onto his back, pinning his wrists by his head. “Was I any good?”

Asra’s laughing fit to burst, the tension seeping from his shoulders. He melts into the sand underneath her, body soft and pliant. Finally he opens his eyes and looks at her, soft and adoring.

Daya leans down. Her lips brush his cheek, then trail to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s good to see you laugh,” she murmurs. “I thought you might have forgotten.”

“What am I do to with you, hm?”

“You really have to ask?” she laughs. “You know if you want me you can have me. All of me. Always. Or...did you not catch the hints I’ve been dropping at you lately?”

Asra blushes, if possible, even deeper. “Ah--I--”

“What? Was I being too subtle?”

“ _ Daya _ ,” he says, lips twitching. “You’re many things -- many  _ wonderful  _ things -- but you are not and never have been subtle.”

She has to grin at that. He knows her far too well.

Asra lets his head drop back onto the sand. He looks a little wistful.

“What are you thinking about?” Daya asks, and twists a curl around her finger.

His lovely eyes lock on hers. He pauses, fumbling with the words, and his blush spreads to his ears.

“How…” he pauses, licks his lips. “How trying to get you out of a soaked dress might take more patience than I have right now.”

“I thought you wanted to see me in wet clothes,” Daya replies cheekily, though her face is aflame.

“I’d rather see you out of them right now.”

She does move then, grinding her hips down against his, and the moan he makes is  _ delicious _ ; low and hoarse.  _ Guttural _ . She’s never heard him make such a sound before, and it makes the muscles of her core clench tight. 

Asra blushes so brightly she can see the redness creeping under his skin. He huffs impatiently, wrists straining against her hands.

“Daya,” he says, a little breathlessly. “I need my hands free.”

“For what?”

She frees his hands anyway, and fumbles at the delicate clasps at her shoulders. The fabric of her Masquerade dress drops away easily, and as it falls from her shoulders it melts, rippling away in a cool wash of magic.

If it had been anyone else she would have taken a moment for self-consciousness, but it’s  _ Asra _ , and she’d rather no-one else to be this vulnerable with. And he’s vulnerable too--his beautiful Masquerade gown is gone, and he’s lying on the sand beneath her, golden-brown skin gleaming in the starlight.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs, splaying her fingers over his chest. His heartbeat jumps under her touch; a ripple that runs down his abdomen when her fingers slide lower, exploring. His skin is warm and slick--

Asra pushes himself up, capturing the hand sliding between their bodies, and presses a kiss to her wrist.

“Not yet,” he laughs, when she pouts. “Lie down.”

She obeys, rolling off him and landing with a soft thump--not onto sand but to cloth. A deep purple drape, protecting them from the clinging wet sand. Asra must have conjured it when he vanished their clothes.

“I was daydreaming on my way here,” Asra murmurs. He swings a leg over her hips so he’s straddling her, warm hand pressed flat to her breastbone. Then he leans down and nudges her under the jaw. “Imagining what I might do if I had you in my arms like this.”

Daya tilts her head back, exposing her neck for him. The pressure of his lips and teeth feels  _ perfect _ ; she can hardly hear the words he’s murmuring by her ear.

His lips trail down her neck, to the hollow of her throat, until he’s nuzzling the valley between her breasts. Above the heart that beats because of him--and for all her horror and discomfort at the lengths he went to for her, at this moment she is grateful for the body granted to her. Even if it was temporarily lost.

Asra plants another kiss to the left, lips skimming the small swell of her breast.

“How I would touch you,” he says against her skin. His tongue darts out to catch a drop of seawater, gleaming against the dark, rich tones of her skin. Daya huffs breathlessly, squirming. “Taste you.”

“Mmh--!”

His damp curls brush her skin, tickling. He thumbs her nipple, and she moans.

_ This is real, this is really happening _ \--

Her body thrums with impatience, and being pinned only makes it worse. Asra will release her in a heartbeat if Daya asks; she knows that in her bones. But there’s something exciting about surrendering to his touch. 

“You okay?” Asra says softly. She’s not afraid, and not anxious. She nods, head tilted back, teeth worrying at her lip. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes.” A sigh this time, followed by a hum as he tastes the salt on her skin.

He kisses his way down her body; open-mouthed kisses and gentle nips, and with each touch she can feel her skin warming from the chill. He lets go of her wrist eventually, and  Daya tangles her freed hand in his hair, tugging gently. He moans in approval against her hip.

“You’re still okay?” he breathes. It’s a question he’s asked her every few minutes -- always checking before he takes the next step, and she loves him endlessly for it.

“Yes--please don’t stop--”

“As you wish.”

His arms slip under her legs, encouraging her to spread them wider. A sudden image comes to her -- of him on his knees, gazing up through his white eyelashes as he works on his mouth on her. Is it a memory? A dream? A desire? She doesn’t know, but it takes her mind back to the home they share. Perhaps if she sat on the bed and he--

The first touch of his lips on her flesh brings her mind snapping back to reality (or whatever lurid imitation the Magician’s realm is). Daya huffs, wriggling her hips, and is rewarded by a soft chuckle that vibrates through her legs. He must see how wet she is by now; he flashes her an amused glance through his curls, and embarrassment flutters in her chest.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says, raising herself up on her elbows. “What else do you expect after all that teasing?”

Asra laughs, lowers his head and broadens the strokes of his tongue. She tugs his hair lightly; he murmurs an encouragement, the words sending little vibrations through her thighs. So different from touching herself, so  _ good _ \--she tries to keep her hips still, but she can’t help thrusting up, seeking that friction and pressure.

Their auras mingle and thicken around them in an ephemeral haze, blocking out the sights and sounds of the beach. All she can hear are the wet, soft sounds of Asra’s mouth as he devours her. For all his talk about not having the patience, and then all the teasing after--he’s abandoned any pretense at keeping her waiting. She’s firmly held in loving hands and urged higher and higher, and it’s so  _ divine  _ she can hardly contain herself.

“ _ Ah--hah _ \--A-Asra--”

“Mm?” 

He lifts his head, and Daya squirms petulantly.

“God--don’t  _ stop--! _ ”

Were it anyone else she would be utterly mortified at the breathy, tremulous sounds from her mouth--but they only seem to inflame him. Each sound is answered by a low moan of approval, mouth pressed tenderly to her sensitive, swollen clit. Two fingers -- delicate, fine-boned fingers she loves -- slip inside her, one at a time.

The dual sensations of the fingers scissoring and curling and the suction on her clit is enough to push her higher; the muscles of her thighs and ass pull taut as she bucks helplessly against his mouth.

“I’m close,” she sobs, fingers buried in his hair. “Don’t stop,  _ don’t stop _ \--”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he promises, and in a moment of blinding pleasure she wonders just  _ how _ she could have forgotten this utter bliss -- then the thought dissolves as her orgasm hits her hard,  _ hard _ , and she comes apart in his hands.

“There you go.” His soft voice cuts through the blood thundering in her ears. Daya slumps back, arms thrown over her face, gasping and quivering at the aftershocks that pulse through her.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” he says, his voice full of affection. “You look amazing.”

“ _ Fuck _ , Asra,” she says finally, when her breathing begins to slow. He laughs, and Daya props herself up on her elbows. Her arms feel like wet noodles, with barely enough strength to hold her. “Where did you learn to do  _ that? _ ”

“I had a good teacher,” Asra says, grinning slyly. He eases her limp thighs down and leans against her knee, gazing up at her through damp white curls. “You feel okay?”

“I’m good. Really good.”

She opens her arms, smiling. Asra pushes himself up on his hands; she can see the flex of his arm muscles and the strength in his shoulders as he crawls over her, pressing his body against hers. She can feel every inch of him now; soft and warm...and between her legs, hard and hot.

“You’ll have to give me a second,” she says against his shoulder, kissing the sweat from his skin.

“As much as you n-- _ ngh! _ ”

She reaches between their bodies and takes hold of him. Asra’s reaction is immediate; he groans, head dropping forward. His fingers spasm on her hips, twitching, as she rubs a thumb over the sensitive head.

“My turn,” she says against his shoulder, and hooks a leg over his hip. She pushes up against his shoulders, grasps his arms -- and flips them both, so he’s on his back. 

Asra lands with a soft  _ oof _ , and for a moment looks so startled she bursts into giggles. His laugh mingles with hers, chased by the sound of the waves. He looks just as she imagined; skin gleaming with sweat, trembling under her hands. She reaches down and takes hold of him again.

“Wait,” Asra chokes out, before she can move. “I don’t know how much longer I can--”

She strokes him idly; he quivers, a low moan escaping his throat.

“Daya--wait. Please. I want to feel you.”

“You don’t want me to…?”

Asra chuckles breathlessly. He looks so adorably _embarrassed_ ; blinking up at her from his disheveled hair, lips still slick. “Maybe--maybe later. Another time.”  
“Hmm,” Daya says slowly; a smile tugs at her lips. Her fingers circle the tip of him, and his eyelashes flutter. “We could. Then I could...learn what you like. Or…” her voice lilts teasingly. “You could _instruct_ me. You know I’m a quick study.”

Trapped between her thighs, he can only gasp and buck his hips fruitlessly. Daya pretends to think, her head tilted to the side.

“But then again,” she muses. “I’m learning already. You like me on top, don’t you?”

Asra bites his lip and gazes up at her. “Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“ _ Daya _ .” There’s a note of delighted amusement in Asra’s voice, even as he thrusts into her touch. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“ _ Immensely _ ,” she laughs, and leans down to kiss him. His eyes are half-closed in pleasure, but the stars above reflect in his irises. Gazing into them makes her feel like she’s drowning in luminous purple. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

He returns the kiss breathlessly. “Yes. Please, my love.”

_ My love. _ Even when he’s at the edge of his limits, even when they’re vulnerable like this--his sweetness will always move her. She brushes against him, warm and wet, and then sinks down onto him.

Asra groans deep. His thighs quiver under her, holding himself still, letting her adjust. It feels more familiar than she expected...an echo of a memory perhaps, or perhaps it was just her comfort with him. She presses down; he lifts, seeking more and more of her until there’s nothing left to give. His head drops back, eyes nearly closed, a smile curling his bitten lips.

“Daya,” he sighs softly. “You feel  _ incredible _ .”

There’s something about being so intimately connected to Asra that makes her want to cry, her heart is so full. Her hips rock in a slow, hard rhythm, driving him deeper and deeper. Beneath her Asra sweats, pants, trembles beautifully, and his hands rest on her hips to guide her in a steady pace.

“I’m not--I won’t last long--”

“That’s okay,” Daya says breathlessly. Her hands spread over his chest, head tilted back as her hips roll. “You’ll come for me, won’t you?”

“I will--I-- _ hah _ \--”

There’s no more thought for anything else, and behind her eyes she can almost see the colours of their aura--pulsing with the beat of their hearts; rolling like the tide. Her body moves without conscious thought; hips meeting his in sync, spine curving, thighs shaking and burning.

“I love you so much,” Asra pants; his pace quickens, heart pounding under her fingers. “I’m--Daya, I’m close, I can feel it--”

“Good,” she murmurs and bends to kiss him. Asra’s hips thrust sharply against hers, once, twice--then he groans against her mouth, and stiffens, and she can feel the tremble of his muscles beneath her hands as he comes.

For a moment it seems as if time has stopped. Asra shudders against her, fingers digging into her thighs as his hips press flush against hers, face buried in her neck as he spills. He mutters something under his breath, and through the haze of her pleasure Daya realises he's saying her name, soft and reverent. Then he sighs deeply, and lets his head fall back, and time begins again.

"Mmm," he says, and tilts his head to give her a lazy kiss.

Daya brushes back his sweaty hair affectionately. "Good?"

"So good."

His slack fingers brush along her thighs, tracing slow patterns. She shifts, letting him slip out of her, and rests back down on his chest.

They lie there in contented silence for a few moments, letting the breeze chill the sweat on their skin. Daya trails languid kisses along his chin and mouth, enjoying the feel of his hands drawing circles on her bare back.

“Good thing time flows differently here,” Asra says, his lips on her neck, and she grins. “Though...in future, we can come back whenever we want. For as long as we want.”

“Mmm. We could.” She pulls back a little to look into his eyes. “Or...we could repeat this experience in the real world.”

“Oh?” Asra tucks one hand behind his head, smiling fondly at her. “You had something in mind?”

“That little house you have in Nopal,” Daya whispers, pressing another kiss to his chin. “Our first stop on that vacation you promised me. Just the two of us.”

His eyes gleam. “There’s more to that idea, I can tell.”

“Well, yes,” Daya says slowly. There’s an idea forming in her mind, but the urgency of their situation is starting to return. “But you’ll see when this is all over. I promise it will be worth it.”

Asra presses his forehead against hers.

“I can’t wait.”

  
  



End file.
